We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life; The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.
In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.
Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart.
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
No work begun shall ever pause for death.
Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?